The Sound of the Blow Dryer

"The Sound of the Blow Dryer," (MmF, wimp husband) by c.w. cobblestone The sound of the blow dryer wasn't loud enough to drown out Susan's happy humming. She's always in a good mood when she's getting ready for a date with Richard. From my position in the bedroom, I could see my wife's reflection in the bathroom mirror as she primped. Even without makeup, she was stunning. The air in the bathroom was still foggy from Susan's long, hot shower, and she had to wipe the sweat off the mirror several times with a towel in order to see herself. She didn't notice me as she continued singing her private song, shaking her butt slightly to the beat in her head as she dried her hair. I cannot describe the humiliation I felt as I sat there and watched my wife preening, getting all dolled up for her lover. She finished her work with the blow dryer, then plugged in her curling iron. As she waited for the curling iron to heat up, she started applying her makeup: first the eye shadow, ever so slowly, then a little rouge around her cheeks. Every few seconds she would step back from the mirror and study her artistry. No detail escaped her as she turned her beautiful face to and fro, looking at every possible angle before going back to work with the makeup brush. Susan was wearing her bathrobe, unfortunately, so I wasn't able to sneak a peek at my wife's incredible ass. Sometimes she stays naked while she does her makeup, and I get a rare chance to ogle my wife's butt. Sadly, though, this wasn't one of those days. After her makeup was nearly finished, she finally spoke to me: "Hey, dipstick - stop staring at me and go get me a glass of water!" I rushed to obey, then returned to my seat in the bedroom. I was praying Susan wouldn't decide to kick me out. Sometimes when she's getting ready for a date, she'll notice me gawking at her and throw me out of the bedroom. This time, thankfully, she immediately got back to the business at hand: making herself gorgeous for Richard. She continued humming that damn song to herself as she curled her hair with the hot iron. I was torn between my intense feelings of jealousy and my utter adoration for the beautiful woman I married! Unfortunately, I thought, another man will be the beneficiary of my wife's beauty tonight. As she curled her hair, she took her brush and teased the hair on top of her head. She was going for the "big hair" look. It made her look kind of slutty - but Susan tells me Richard likes the slut look. "Richard likes it." Always what Richard likes. She finished curling her hair, then started carefully spraying her fragile 'doo. I was watching her facial expressions in the mirror as she sprayed her hair: from the sexy poses she was giving herself, I knew she was definitely ready for a hot time tonight! And, as fine as she looked, I knew she was going to get it! When she finally finished doing her hair, she turned from the sink and started walking toward me. She casually undid the belt on her robe, letting the robe slip open. I gasped as I caught a glimpse of her pussy - it was completely shaved! Susan giggled when she noticed me looking at her crotch. "Yeah, I shaved it nice and smooth for my honey," she said, looking me straight in the eye. "If you want, you can feel it for a second." Before the last word was out of her mouth, I dropped to my knees. "Oh, thank you, Susan, thank you!" I gushed as I began shuffling on my knees toward my wife, who was arrogantly holding her robe open. "C'mon and feel mommy's pussy, sweetie, and make sure it's nice and smooth for her manly-man!" She had a wicked look in her eye now, and I shuddered. I crawled over to my wife and reverently touched her bald pussy. I was careful not to insert a finger - I knew that would get me nothing but a hard slap across the face. "Mmmm...that feels nice," Susan said as I continued lightly stroking the outer edges of her pink lips. Apprehensively, I looked up at my wife's face. Her eyes were closed and she was smiling to herself, looking almost as if she were laughing at a secret joke. Lord only knows what she was thinking at that moment! Probably fantasizing about the night she was about to spend with Richard. "That's enough," she said curtly, slapping my hand away from her vagina. "I'm horny enough - I've gotta try and make it through dinner as it is! Now go get me my underwear - the new ones Richard bought me last week." I rushed to the dresser and retrieved the matching black bra and panty set Richard had purchased the week before on a shopping jaunt to Victoria's Secret. I was allowed to tag along with them to the mall that day - it was my job to carry all their packages while they enjoyed a leisurely day of shopping...but that's another story altogether. I watched Susan as she sexily stepped into the black panties and pulled them up around her butt. Then she grabbed the bra from my hand and put it around her shoulders. "Snap me," she said, and I obeyed. "You forgot my stockings," she said testily. I rushed back to the dresser and got the black thigh-highs she'd put out earlier. I gulped as I watched her pull the silk material past her painted toes, then further up her perfect, muscle-toned leg. She then repeated the performance on her other leg. "Go get me my dress," she said after her stockings were done. I went to the closet and fetched the outfit she planned on wearing: a short red one-piece dress that showed off every nook and cranny of her incredible body. I knelt before my wife and watched in awe as she stepped into her sexy dress. "Do you like this one, sweetie?" she asked innocently. She smiled at me and twirled a dainty pirouette, holding her hands up as if to say, "Ta Da!" "Richard says I look good in red," she mused. "What do you think?" I gulped. "Uh...I think you look good in any color, Susan." Susan's smile turned into a look of bored disgust. "Yeah, yeah," she said, stifling a yawn. "Whatever. Quit trying to get brownie points and bring me my red pumps." Her words cut through my heart. She didn't even acknowledge my complement - she was totally focused on Richard tonight. But I didn't let on that I was disappointed - not that it would have mattered to her anyhow! Silently, I went back into the closet to retrieve her shoes. These were definitely what you'd call "fuck-me" pumps! My back was turned to Susan and she couldn't see me, so I surreptitiously placed a respectful kiss onto the toe of both her pumps before I turned around and brought the shoes over to my wife. As is our ritual, I knelt before Susan and helped her into her shoes. She put her hand on top of my head for support as I gently slid her feet into each pump. "Remember, I want the entire basement spotless by the time I get home," Susan said as I finished my task at her feet. "I've already got half of it done, honey - " I started to say, Susan waved her hand and cut me off before I could finish my sentence. "Don't bore me with the details, dip-stick," she said. "I've got more important things to worry about. Just have it done by the time I get home." With that, she kissed her index finger, then touched it lightly to my forehead. "Bye-bye, sweetie," she sang merrily. "I'm outta here. Have fun cleaning the basement - and don't bother waiting up for me. I might not be home tonight," she said over her shoulder as she walked toward the front door. I sadly listened to her high heels clicking on the wood floor of the foyer. Then the door closed and she was gone. THE END 3284 1.07/512345